Look What You've Created
by Pururu
Summary: Taking a fish and slapping the South Park Fandom with it. A short parody of every fanfic in this entire section through the eyes of Kyle. Oneshot. Read and review.


**I'm back. With a parody short story too. This is a punch to every fanfic in this section of fanfiction. I'm in no way hitting out to any particular people; I have had no interest on this site for quite a while. So yeah enjoy I guess.**

The loud buzz from my desk clock goes right through my ears and uncomfortably wakes me up. Here we go again. I slept really horrible last night. I look behind me and to no surprise all of my pillows and covers were missing. Looks like having five of them with me don't work. I'll try seven tonight. But I know it won't stop _them_.

I get up from my bed carefully tip-toeing around the sleeping bodies that take up most of my floor, standing on the remains of my blanket fabric and feathers along the way. I don't want them waking up again like last time. I shiver at the thought. I carefully open my door but it only opens for a few inches. _They_'re out in my hall too? Looks like I'm going to have to use my window. What luck, the ladder is still standing. I'm not going to try and lock the window, _they_'ll just break it. God I hate _them_ so much.

I'll just go to my neighbours' garden house again. Mr and Mrs Smith; lovely old couple. I thank them time and time again for doing this. Not only do they have to put up with these _people_, they denied offers for selling their house when it's worth more than a million dollars; just because it's next to me house. They also let me hang in their old shed whenever I need to avoid the crowds before and after school. I'm sorry they have to suffer this.

* * *

Now I'm ready for school. This is one of the worst parts of the day now, but for the next 5 minutes, it will be the calmest I'll have. If I'm lucky that is. Walking to the bus stop is the only time I can think clearly. It's something I enjoy; I really wish it could last longer.

Hmm, looks like I'm the first one here. There's a surprise. But it won't be long until- oh wait. Yep, here _they_ come. I watch _them_ come and stand. There must be about fifty? Sixty? And it's all of _them_. It's always _them_, never any of my true friends I knew for a long time. _They _ruined everything. Finally, the buses are coming. Yep you heard right, buses. Since _they_ arrived, the student population grew dramatically; it's funny how it's mostly the fourth grade, my grade, which got affected. Funny that eh? I like these new buses. They're double decker buses imported straight from England. Odds are some of these _people_ were imported on the same ship. Luckily, those who were original students before _they_ came have a special bus. They even had to employ a security guard too that rides on our bus every day just to keep _them_ out.

Who to sit next to today? Oh, looks like Butters is back. I feel really sorry for him. Ever since _these_ _people_ came he literally changed overnight. He's rocking himself backwards in forwards staring into space. I'll just leave him to it. As I figured Tweek is still away too. The stress got to him so badly he snapped. Apparently he got sent to a remote mental institution in some European country. Shame really. Ahh, Cartman. I'll sit next to him. That's the only thing good about _these folk_ coming here, they've been forcing Cartman to love me. The love and the hate are neutral so finally we can have a normal friendship, which I am welcoming with open arms.

* * *

Finally, we've arrived in school. Our ten story school. Where my class is on the top floor and there's no lift. Good grief, they should add elevators to the school. I'd put that suggesting to the student body but guess what? She's too busy coaching the basketball, football, hockey, drama, art, wood shop and just about every other club you can get here. Little Miss Perfect. The halls are too crowded, hot and just generally horrible. The classes are just too horrible too, we have to spend the first hour of the day listening to introductions from the new kids who "just moved here from such and such a place and yadda yadda yadda" My desk is cluttered with love notes and death threats. My locker is cluttered with love notes and death threats. I'm harassed everywhere I go. Oh, and did I forget to mention we are also vampire/werewolf hybrids every Friday night? It's crazy!

And the only one enjoying all this is Kenny. I can tell why, I mean he gets all the ladies and a decent place to sleep every night. God I wish Stan was still here. His family fled the country to get away from _them_ but it didn't work. He never calls now; the lines always hacked by_ those people_.

I tried to run away many times, _they_ made me come back. If I try to kill myself, _they_'ll bring me back. There's no escape from them. I can't fight it, I'm powerless. Trapped on the strings like a puppet and _they_ are the children controlling my every move, every decision, and my life. And I have only one question. Just one simple question.

Where has my quiet little mountain town gone?


End file.
